If Only
by breakawayy
Summary: Based on "But trust me, putting the job ahead of your heart is a mistake. Risking our hearts is why we're alive. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder if only…" from To Love and Die in LA 3x22 slash Watershed 5x24 spec.


_"But trust me, putting the job ahead of your heart is a mistake. Risking our hearts is why we're alive. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder, if only..."_

* * *

She still has the letter. It's folded neatly into quarters under the spare piece in her night stand in her apartment. She pulls it out gingerly, careful not to tear the paper as she tugs it away from underneath her Glock. She reads it twice; Royce's words are comforting, and God knows she could use a little of that right now. Between staying and going, between what she'd wanted for so long and now has, and what she wants next for herself... The choices are making her sick. She turns it over in her hands and reads it again, as if the words of a dead man could give her an answer.

* * *

_**[earlier]**_

"The job's in D.C." she's talking more to her glass of Merlot than she is to Lanie.

"And?" Lanie prompts for more. She doesn't mean to be nosy but... Okay, yes she does. She prides herself in being the nosy friend. And it's not like she's nosy just for the hell of it, because Kate's raking her top teeth along her bottom lip as if a whole world of words is about to spill out and—

"This job, it's what I want."

_Aah, there it is._

She's still quiet, but her tone is confident. It really is what she wants. To stop sentencing the guy who killed his cheating ex-wife for the life insurance money. She's so god damn tired of the typical, meaningless murders that are solved in less than a day. And she knows they're important, and that solving those cases brings justice to someone, and for a long time it was enough, but she's seen more of those than she can count, and now she wants more. More of the big cases. Cases like her mom's, but that don't go cold because she's with the fucking FBI.

"So take it."

"But I can't just take it, I mean, my life here, Manhattan..."

"_Manhattan_ isn't everything, Kate. And even if it were, so what? New York is just a four hour bus ride away."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." And it really _is_ an incredible offer...

"I know I am." Lanie smirks, topping off her glass.

* * *

"So you're seriously considering it?" Castle breaks several moments of painful silence. His response is no where near as accepting as the one she'd envisioned. She knew he wouldn't be thrilled, but was it wrong to hope that he could be at least a little happy for her?

"I'm more than considering it, actually. This is a _wonderful_ opportunity, a chance to do more. Castle, this is a once in a lifetime chance," the leftovers she'd brought him back from Lanie's are cold now.

"Without me. It's a chance to do more without me." his slight emphasis on 'without me' pisses her off. She's thrilled that his mother is out because she wants nothing more than to raise her voice because god dammit, isn't this about her? "You take this job, that's the end of our relationship."

"Without you? I get the most incredible opportunity of my entire career, and all you can think about is that I won't be right here? And on that note, why should I be right here? Because you could never step foot in the 12th again and still turn out ten new Nikki Heats. So it's not the muse aspect. To move forward in our relationship? Because I asked where we were going. That's obviously not it. And the job, that's the end of our relationship? You're really going to make me pick between the two things I care about most? Are you fucking kidding me, Rick?" she transfers some of her weight to the back of the sofa and lets him take everything in.

He's surprised to say the least. "Kate,"

"I don't want to hear it, Castle." she sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. "I'm tired. I'm gonna go home and... I don't know. I'll call you later." she grabs her jacket and slips back into her black heels. She stops with her hand on the doorknob. "I'm taking the job." she pauses but doesn't wait long for him to mull it over. "Are we done?"

"Yeah. We're done."

With his door closed behind her, she leans back and slides to the floor.

It took her _years_. Years of therapy and healing and contemplating thousands of what-ifs and if-onlys and this is where she ends up. Back at square one.

* * *

_**[later]**_

She sits cross legged on her bed donning a messy buns and yoga pants. The paper in her hands is soft now, worn down from age. After reading it through for the third time, she re-folds it along its creases and sets it gently back under the small, black gun. _Risking our hearts_, she scoffs. All that did was leave her with a bad mood and smudged mascara. _P__utting the job ahead of your heart is a mistake. _She sighs. She wants to erase her decision; to take more time and figure things out. She wants to put her decision in the hands of a dead man. That's what it's come to; she's desperate. _Fuck_.

* * *

_A/N: I had a terrible day so you get a sad story. Yay. Also, I'm in an insanely terrible allergy fog right now so I know this is bad work and it's not even a good story and it's bad writing, but send me some love anyways? If not because you liked my story, but because my day sucked? Okay well yeah Watershed next week wat bye. _


End file.
